"Then add one more married woman to the list," King said.
"Listen, boy, it ain't gonna matter if she's married or not." He looked at Queen's breasts silhouetted inside her sheer white half shirt and emerging from the l ow-cut collar. "I haven't seen a rack like that in twenty years and I'm feeling some life in places I'd long since given up for dead."
King smiled. He liked the old man, but not what he was insinuating. He knew Queen could take care of herself, but if the locals turned on them it would compromise the mission. "I see what you are saying. Honey, make yourself decent." He shooed her away with his hands, which garnered a quick glare. She disappeared belowdeck a moment later.
King hopped onto the dock and found the thick old man stood as tall as he did and a good portion thicker. Aged, but with a body earned through hard labor. He shook his leathery hand and said, "Etienne Brodeur, a pleasure."
"Captain Jon Karn," he returned, pronouncing his last name Kahn.
"How did you come to live on Tristan da Cunha?"
Karn eyed him. "Why you want to know?"
"I am a, ahh, connoisseur of life. I am interested in people. You see?"
Karn smiled and shook his head. "You better watch your back, too, buddy. You're about as feminine as the gals here."
King guffawed. "You are from Massachusetts, no? I recognize the accent. We've summered on the Cape Cod."
This got a smile from Karn. "I'll bet you have… I'm a Gloucester-man. Third-generation fisherman. But the waters dried up. Fish disappeared. Made living hard. At the time the waters here were thick with fish, so I left home and tried my hand out here in the middle of nowhere. Worked out great for a while. But two years ago the fishing factory burned down. Most folks lost their income. Course, that all changed about a month later when they showed up."
Karn motioned toward the distant glow of the Manifold facility. "Most everyone gave up on the fish and went to work for them. Now the lights stay on day and night. We get cable television. High-speed Internet. The works. Me, I liked it here before they came. You don't come to the settlement if you like being connected to the world. And that's just the start of—"
"Is this better, monsieur?" Queen exited the cabin dressed in hiking boots, loose-fitting blue jeans, and a baggy sweater. A sports bra combined with the sweater hid her curves nicely. Her hair was tied in a bun that protruded from the back of a Yankees baseball cap. She'd washed off the makeup she'd applied for her role, but her natural beauty would be impossible to hide without a thick coat of mud.
"Lose the fucking Yankees cap and I won't throw you to the fishes." Karn gave a nearly toothless smile.
"All Americans are Yankees to the French," she said, smiling fiendishly.
"Watch your language, lady," he replied, though he couldn't hide a grin of his own.
Queen removed the cap and tossed it into the water.
Karn nodded. "You should be fine." He caught King's eye. "Just don't leave her alone."
King pulled Queen up and into his arms. "I would never let anyone harm my darling Dominique."
Queen feigned a giggle as she jabbed her thumb into a pressure point on King's back. He winced and covered it with a laugh of his own. "Please, Monsieur Karn. Is there an eatery on the island?"
"An eatery?"
"A restaurant. Someplace we might socialize… pick up the local flavor?"
"The local flavor is shit, boy. But if you're in the mood for shit, Jake's Tavern is three streets up on the right. There ain't no sign, but it'll be the only place with lights in the front."
"Merci," King said with a wave. He placed his arm around Queen and they strutted off toward town.
Karn shook his head. "French people." He thought the two were nice enough. He just hoped they could stay out of trouble. Strange things had been going on in Edinburgh since Beta Incorporated had arrived. And more than a few volunteers had yet to return. Including his brother, who had made the trip to Tristan da Cunha with him. He'd volunteered to undergo an experimental treatment for a tumor on his leg. That was a month ago. He hadn't heard a peep from his brother since and was beginning to think he never would again.
TWENTY-FOUR
Pierce entered a large computer lab with Reinhart right behind him. He'd been summoned from his room once again, this time from a dead sleep. The bright white light of the lab caused him to squint, which in turn caused him to stumble into a chair. The chair shot across the room as Pierce fell back. He managed to stay on his feet, but the corner of the desk caught his funny bone, sending a wave of pain from elbow to fingertip. The clatter announced their entry into the lab rather noisily, but neither Ridley nor Maddox, who stood in front of a large, six-monitor computer display, turned or bid them welcome. Behind the display screens sat rows of slate gray computer towers, whirring and humming as their cooling fans filled the room with heat from the hardworking processors. Judging by the mass of cabling attaching each computer to the next, he could see they were all networked, functioning as one supercomputer. He couldn't guess at how much computing power the system contained, but it was clearly built for something monumental, far beyond the capabilities of a human mind. That seemed to be Manifold's M.O. at least.
Reinhart shoved him forward. "Try not to trip on your shoelaces."
Pierce glanced down at his shoes, just in case. Tied tight. He headed for Maddox knowing that he, at least, had some small amount of decency in him. His reaction to Ridley's death threat earlier was proof of that. But it did little to comfort him as he looked around the vast lab and found it empty. There would be no witnesses for what was about to occur. And though Maddox might have a conscience, Pierce doubted the man would risk his life to take a stand. He clearly prized his research over all else. Probably his life, too.
Rubbing his arm, he made his way past workstations and lab equipment. He stopped at the computer display, acutely aware that Reinhart remained behind him, rather than circling around. Ridley looked up from the sheet of paper he and Maddox had been looking at. Both men wore smiles.
Success.
"Dr. Pierce," Ridley said. "Just in time to share in our little celebration."
Pierce forced a smile and did his best to sound nonplussed. "No balloons or champagne?"
Ridley stood tall, his bald head gleaming in the room's bright light like a polished statue. He looked as monolithic as his deep voice sounded. "Time for that later. A few tests are in order before the true celebration can begin."
"Then you haven't finished?"
"Not completely." Maddox's smile would have been contagious under different circumstances. The man was truly excited. "But we're days away from a final product. Thanks to you, of course."
"The Hydra DNA worked then?" Pierce couldn't hide his interest. The idea that a mythological creature was not only real, but impacting modern-day science was intriguing despite being a prisoner.
Maddox nodded quickly. He handed Pierce the sheet of paper he and Ridley had been examining. Several charts containing series of numbers filled the page. "What am I looking at?"
The page was ripped from his fingers. Maddox held it like a treasured prize. "When I first began analyzing the Hydra sample I thought my equipment was flawed. We recalibrated everything. Used new equipment. The results came back the same every time."
Maddox ran a hand through his messy hair. Disheveled and excited, he looked like some of Pierce's friends. He chuckled as he continued, "At first, things went disastrously. Extracting DNA, while not exactly trivial, has become somewhat routine. Not so with the Hydra sample. We had to break new ground. You see, DNA extraction is performed… in water."